You And I
by SamLim29
Summary: I came to Japan to start over. NOT to get tangled up with this freaky kid or his creepy-ass brothers! Geez... Is a peaceful life too much too ask for?
1. Miss Butterfly

It was a miracle.

I hurried onto the train and grabbed hold of one of the gleaming silver poles, hardly daring to believe my good fortune.

It was the evening rush hour and I was running late.

I'd expected to have to cram myself into a car packed with hundreds of other commuters who were on their way back from work, anxious and eager to get home.

But here I was, still panting a little from having run all the way to the station, stepping into a car that was practically empty.

_Maybe, things are finally going my way for a change._

I didn't look around. I kept my gaze fastened on the ad above my head, which was advertising a new video game featuring man eating giants and people zipping around on wires.

_Don't look. Whatever you do, don't look, don't look, don't look…_

With luck, I thought, I might be able to make it all the way to my stop without making eye contact or having any interaction at all with another human being…

It was the butterflies – life-size – that caught my attention at first. No one in Japan would wear white pumps with huge plastic insects on the toes. The romance novel (I assumed it was a romance novel from the helpless-looking, doe-eyed blonde on the cover, safe in the arms of a blonde male with a flowing green cloak and the emblem of wings on his back) had Cyrillic writing on it. The giant roller suitcase parked in front of her was yet another clue that the girl was out of town.

Though none of that – including the fact that she'd pinned her long, mousy brown hair onto the top of her head, _Sound Of Music_ style, and had paired her cheap red polyester dress with neon yellow leggings – was as dead a giveaway to her new-in-town status as what the girl did next.

"Oh, I sorry," she said, looking up with a flash of pearly whites that changed her whole face and made her go from merely pretty to stunningly beautiful. "Please, you want sit?''

The girl moved her purse, which she'd left on the seat next to her so that I could sit down. No sane person from Japan would have ever done that. Not when there were at least a dozen other empty seats on the train.

My heart sank.

I now knew two things with absolute certainty:

One was that, despite the miracle of the nearly empty subway car, things definitely weren't going to go my way that day.

The other was that the girl with the plastic butterflies on her shoes was going to be dead by the end of this week.


	2. Miss Butterfly And Me

I hoped I was wrong about Miss Butterfly.

Except that I was never wrong. Not about death.

Giving in to the inevitable, I let go of the gleaming metal pole and slid into the seat the girl had offered.

"Ummm… Is this your first time visiting Tokyo?'' I asked Miss Butterfly, even though I already knew the answer.

The girl, still smiling, cocked her head.

"Yes, yes, Japan!'' she cried enthusiastically, nodding her head like a bobble head doll.

Great. Her Japanese was basically non-existent.

Miss Butterfly had pulled out a cell phone and was scrolling through photos on it. She stopped on one and held it up for me to see.

"See?'' Miss Butterfly said proudly. "Boyfriend. My Japanese boyfriend, Akihisa."

I looked at the grainy picture. _Oh, brother._

_Why? _I asked myself. _Why __**TODAY **__of all days? _I didn't have time for this. I had night school. And to top it all off, I was new, and it wouldn't reflect well on me if I were late. It was some sort of snobby prep school, and they were probably big on first impressions.

A woman's voice came on over the subway car's loudspeakers to announce that the doors were closing. The next stop, she announced, would be Shibuya station.

I stayed where I was, having missed my own stop.

_When will my life stop sucking? LOL, never._

"He… Er… Looks very nice," I lied to Miss Butterfly about Akihisa. "You're here to visit him?"

Miss Butterfly nodded some more.

"He help me get Visa,'' she said. "And-'' She used the cell phone to mime taking photos of herself.

"Head shots,'' I understood instantly. My mother worked in the industry, and I'd grown up hearing these terms. I knew what she was talking about, alright. And my heart sank even more. "So you want to be a model? Or an actress?''

Miss Butterfly beamed and nodded. "Yes, yes. Actress.''

Of course. _Of course_ this pretty girl wanted to be an actress.

_Fantastic_, I thought cynically. So this Akihisa was her manager too. That explained the baseball cap – pulled down so low that I couldn't see his eyes – and the number of gold chains around his neck in the photo.

"What's your name?" I asked.

Miss Butterfly pointed at herself, as if surprised to know that I cared to discuss _her_ as opposed to the ultra-fantastic Gerald.

"I? I am Margarita."

"Great," I said. I unzipped my satchel, dug around the mess inside, and came up with a business card. I always had one handy for this kind of situation, which unfortunately, came up all too often… Especially when I rode the subway. "Margarita-san, if you need anything – anything at all – I want you to call me. My cell phone number is on it. See?" I pointed it out, trying to ignore the pain throbbing in my heart. The girl was barely older than me. She had to be nineteen at the most. "You can call me anytime. My name is Antoinette. If things don't work out with your new boyfriend – if he turns out to be mean, or hurts you in any way – I want you to know you can call me. I'll come get you, wherever you are. Day or night. And listen…" I added. "Don't show this card to your boyfriend. This is a _secret_ card. For emergencies. Between friends. Do you understand?"

Margarita just gazed at me, smiling happily.

She didn't understand. She didn't understand at all that my number might literally mean the difference between life and death for her.

They never understood.

The train pulled up to Shibuya station. Margarita jumped up.

"Shibuya?" She asked, looking panicky.

"Yes," I replied. "This is Shibuya station."

"I meet my boyfriend here," Margarita said excitedly, grabbing her huge roller bag and giving it a yank. She took my card in her other hand, beaming. "Thank you! I call!"

She meant she'd call to have lunch sometime.

But I knew that Margarita would call for something totally different. If she didn't lose the card… Or if the bastard didn't find it first and take it away. Then give her a fist sandwich for lunch.

"Remember," I repeated, following her off the train. "Don't tell the b- Akihisa about this card. Hide it somewhere."

"I do," Margarita said, and scrambled towards the nearest flight of stairs. It was so huge, and Margarita was so small that she could barely drag it. Giving in to the inevitable, picked up the bottom of the girl's incredibly heavy suitcase and helped her carry it up the steep and crowded staircase. Then I pointed her in the direction Margarita needed to go – the bastard was meeting her at the entrance of the "big station."

With a heavy sigh, I turned around and headed for a train back uptown so I could get to my new school.

I knew Margarita hadn't understood a word of what I'd said. Well, maybe one in five.

And even if she had, there wouldn't have been any point in telling the girl the truth. She wouldn't have believed me, anyway.

Just like there was no point in following her now, seeing the bastard, and then saying something to him (as much as I would have liked to) like, "I know what you really are and what you do for a living. And I'm going to call the police, ha-ha, in your face!"

Because you couldn't call the cops on someone for something they're _going _to do. Any more than you can tell someone that they're going to die.

I'd learned this the hard way.

I sighed again. I was going have to run now if I wanted to catch the next train uptown.

I just prayed there wouldn't be too many people on it.


	3. Wir Sind Der Jäger!

The office was large and brightly lit. An elegant cream-coloured sofa had been placed by the door, the carpets in a muted shade of brown. A wall had been dedicated entirely to awards, another had been entirely windowed to make the room appear larger than it really was. A white clock ticked on the pristine walls, and cactuses of varying colours had been placed at strategic points in the room to no doubt attempt to give it some colour. The room was cut in half by a long counter, cluttered with wire baskets full of papers and brightly coloured flyers taped to its front. There were three desks behind the counter, one of which was manned by a large, bespectacled brunette.

She looked up questioningly. "Can I help you?''

"I'm Antoinette Leblanc," I informed her, and saw immediate awareness light her eyes. I was expected, a topic of gossip no doubt. Being the daughter of famous script-writer Chantal Leblanc tended to do that to a person.

"Of course," She replied promptly, digging through a precariously stacked pile of documents on her desk till she found the ones she was looking for. "I have your schedule right here, and a map of the school." She brought out several sheets to the counter to show me.

She went through my classes for me, highlighting the best route to each on the map, and gave me a slip to have each teacher sign, which was to be brought back at the end of the day. She also duly informed me that the current period was homeroom, and that a Miss Itagaki was my form teacher. She smiled at me and hoped that I would like it here. I started to smile back, but it froze on my face.

"Um…"

"Yes?" She arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

"Nothing," I replied, and started to walk away. Then I had second thoughts, hovered uncertainly in the office, and said, "You should see a doctor soon, or you'll have a stroke, or worse, a heart attack."

Then I scarpered before she could even blink.

Seriously, _I_ would be the one who was going to stroke out one day if people didn't start listening to me. I knew taking time off work to see the doctor was a pain.

But when the alternative was _dying_?

Precognition?

Extrasensory perception?

Witchcraft?

It didn't matter what anyone called it; the skill was totally useless in my opinion.

Had it been particularly helpful when I'd finally managed to convince my boyfriend, Henri, about the tumour that I could sense was growing in his brain?

_LOL, NO._

Sure, I'd saved his life (had they fund the tumour any later, it would have been inoperable, the doctors said).

But Henri had dumped me immediately after his recovery for one of the girls in his ward. Hazel was his sunshine, he'd said. She wasn't a "freak" who told people they were going to die.

I hadn't exactly gotten anything out of saving him. Heartache and gaining weight from all the ice-cream I ploughed through didn't count.

Henri and Hazel were now dating.

Of course.

Bitter experience had taught me that no one was interested in finding out how they were going to die.

Except my best (and only) friend, Odette Fabre (Who I'd left behind in Paris), who always listened to me… Ever since that time in seventh grade when Daniel Lyon had asked her to that Aerosmith concert, and I told her not to go, and Daniel took Aimee Macon instead.

That was how Aimee Macon, and not Odette, ended up getting decapitated when the wheel of a semi tractor-trailer came spinning off and landed on top of the bus as it was cruising down the highway after the concert.

After hearing of the accident the morning after (Three other passengers had died, and Daniel had miraculously escaped with only a few sprained ribs), I had promptly upchucked my breakfast.

Why hadn't I realised that by saving my best friend's life from certain death, I had all but guaranteed another girl's? I should have warned Aimee too, and done anything – _everything – _to stop Daniel from going that night.

It was then that I swore that I would never allow what had happened to Aimee Macon to happen to another human being. Not if I could help it. Even if that meant getting ostracized or mocked by the popular crowd. Oh, it hurt alright. But if it meant saving a life, I could handle it. I had to. For their sakes.

But then Mom found out about the bullying, and we'd moved back to her childhood home in Tokyo for a new start. For me, mostly. And so that she could try her hand in Japanese soap operas.

Shaking myself out of my stupor, I looked at my map on the way to class, trying my best to memorise it, so that I wouldn't have to have my face buried in it all day. I stuffed everything in my bag, straightened out my blazer, and sucked in a huge breath.

_I can do this_, I told myself, albeit feebly. _No one's going to bite you here._

_Haha! Famous last words!_

I kept my eyes on the ground as I walked to class, the corridors crowded with teenagers. My attempt to use misdirection failed – stares followed me wherever I went. Sighing, I headed to my class, my breathing gradually creeping towards hyperventilation as I approached the door.

Pissy bimbos I could handle. But public speaking? _No freaking way._

I tried holding my breath as I followed two girls through the door. One was a porcelain-coloured blonde, the other also pale, with jet black hair. At least my skin wouldn't stand out here. Maybe it was the lighting or the uniform, but already I looked sallower, unhealthy. My skin could be a pretty shade of ivory, but it all depended on colour. Reds suited me best; it went with my eyes and made me seem more… _Alive._ But there was no red here.

The classroom was large, white and clean, with one wall being entirely windowed again. The sprinkling of stars outside was pretty, I reflected, handing my slip to the teacher, a smiling redhead, was a hidden sadist who enjoyed teasing people just so she could get a kick out of it.

_She made me introduce myself. _

Resigning myself to my fate, I took the marker from her, and wrote down my name on the white board.

"Um… Hello, everyone, I'm Antoinette Leblanc, _yes_, I'm Chantal Leblanc's daughter, and I hope… That… We'll… Get along well…" My voice trailed off uncertainly as I noticed one very intent stare on me.

Startled, I glanced up, a sheet of white falling around my face, and my eyes fell on a boy. He was chalky pale, even paler than me, the albino. He had violet hair and eyes, with dark shadows under his glittering orbs – Grey shadows. As if he was suffering from a sleepless night. He had a plush teddy bear cradled in his arms, an angelic smile on his smooth, even face.

Then his eyes met mine.

Those weren't the eyes of an angel, I realized.

They were the eyes of a hunter.

And I was pretty sure I knew who his prey was.


	4. My Night Just Keeps Getting Better

I looked away quickly, shocked, going red again.

My classmates all burst into giggles, probably knowing who I was looking at, probably knowing what I was thinking. They couldn't have been more wrong.

I had no bad feelings about this kid. Not a single twinge about how or when he was going to die. Amazingly enough, I felt nothing…

… Nothing about him at all.

Miss Itagaki clapped her hands for silence, and sent me to an empty desk at the back of the room, six seats down from _him._

I kept my eyes down on the reading list the teacher had given me. It was pretty basic: Brontë, Austen, Shakespeare, Hinton, and Steinbeck. I'd already read everything, which was one of the pros (or cons), of not having a social life.

_Sigh._

I zoned out while the teacher droned on. As pretty as she was, Miss Itagaki could be rather… Boring.

My thoughts wandered back to the purple-haired boy. He was cute, yes, but the way he had looked at me so… Possessively, creeped me out. Like I was some sort of tasty morsel that only he could eat. I shuddered, and let my hair fall over my left shoulder, making a light curtain of silver between us.

I peeked at him one more time, and regretted it. He was _still_ staring at me, his eyes full of desire and something else I couldn't quite identify. I shrank back into my chair, sure that my face was as red as my eyes.

At that moment, the bell rang, making me jump. Every cell in my body screamed at me to run. I gathered up my books in a second and was out of my chair in another. I wasn't trying to be mean – there was just something very _off _about him.

"Next class," I murmured to myself, sidestepping chattering students and hassled teachers, "Is… Math…"

I slowed down as I passed by a kitchen. The door was slightly ajar, and a pretty blonde, with a fair complexion and a flower clipping up her curls, was frantically scrubbing at pots and pans in the sink. Something about her heart-shaped face, her billows of soft, platinum hair, reminded me of the ingénues of the silent-movie era.

Taking pity on her, I hesitantly pushed open the door, and called out a soft greeting.

She started, and whirled round, her pink eyes flashing in what could only be described as terror. Then she saw me, and relaxed a little.

"Hello," I offered, setting my books down on an empty seat at the table, and moving over to stand beside her at the sink.

She smiled, making her go from just pretty to stunningly beautiful. With a pang, I realized she reminded me of a younger Margarita.

"Hello," She replied, going back to scrubbing.

"I'm Antoinette Leblanc," I said to break the short silence.

"Yui Komori," She replied, frowning at a particularly stubborn spot on a dish.

_For once, someone who hasn't heard of my mother!_

"Let me help," I offered, grabbing a sponge and a plate.

She looked relieved. "Thank you, it's very kind of you."

I turned to smile at her. "It's… Fine…"

My brow creased. My fingers ceased.

_What was that?_

A red-haired boy picking her up and throwing her into a pool.

Watching mercilessly as she twisted and writhed, all the colour slowly but surely seeping out of her face.

Watching as she became a beautiful, pale corpse.

_No._

"Miss Komori!" I dried the last plate and grabbed her hands, which were wet and dripping with soap. "You… Promise me you'll watch out for that guy."

"Which guy?" She breathed, going pale.

"The red haired one. Watch out for him. And don't… Don't go anywhere with him. Keep away from pools, alright?" I asked her urgently, as the bell rang again.

She stared at me, uncomprehending. "W… What…?"

"Just watch out!" I scrambled to gather up my books and bag and rushed out the room.

She looked like a smart girl. I hoped she would heed my warning. I didn't want her to die. Not if I could help it.

The rest of the night passed by in about the same fashion. My Math teacher, Mr Inoue, who I would have hated anyway because of the subject he taught, forced me to once again introduce myself.

_Wonderful._

I kept it short and sweet, not wanting to stand out any more than I already was.

After two classes, I started to recognize a few of the faces in each class. There was always someone braver than the others who would introduce themselves and ask how I was liking the school. I tried to be diplomatic, mostly just lying a lot. At least I never needed the map.

After three more classes, the final bell rang at last. I walked slowly to the office to return my paperwork, huddling into my thin blazer. A light rain had begun to fall, and the wind was already getting stronger and colder. I wrapped my arms around myself, and walked into the warm office. I went over to the desk, and handed the receptionist my signed slip.

She looked at me with the all-too familiar curl of the lip, and took it quickly, as if I'd had a disease.

_You're welcome._

I walked quickly out the school gates, intent on heading back home as quickly as possible. But then I saw something that made my heart stop. A group of six boys, all chalky pale, all inhumanly beautiful. The kind of people seen on airbrushed magazines. The kind of people seen in a dream. Yui Komori was with them, looking more than just a little unhappy as she played with the hem of her skirt.

They were there. The purple haired boy from my class, and the red-head, the same one I'd tried to warn Yui Komori about. I considered heading over to warn her again, but the boys surrounding her didn't exactly look like a social bunch. Biting my lip, I decided to just head home.

Just as I had decided on this course of action, three things seemed to happen simultaneously. My hair ruffled in the wind, the boys suddenly whipped their heads around, clearly scrutinizing me and Yui gasped. In terror or recognition, I had no idea.

The purple haired boy appeared to be throwing a tantrum, at what, I had no idea. Two bright red spots stood out in his unusually pale face as he held his bear in one hand and waved the other around to emphasize whatever he was saying.

_Yup, I am so outta here._

I ran. I didn't stop running until I had reached the subway, didn't stop running until I was safely at home.

My mother was curled up on the couch, in her 'writing' clothes (An oversized holey grey shirt), despite the fact that it was already pass midnight. I breezed past her with the usual formalities, except way more rushed than normal. The door to my sister's room was already shut, and I assumed that she was sound asleep.

She was. I went into the bathroom between Lisette's bedroom and mine. My side was unlocked, for once, and to my surprise, so was Lisette's. I reached to close the door. I could see her lying on her bed, her golden blonde princess curls spread out like a halo around her.

I turned on the tap, filling the tub up with first cold water, then hot water, swishing my hands around in it until the temperature felt just right. I sank into the silky water and lathered in my shampoo. Though I'd never had much patience for smelling like a cupcake, my sister had chosen it, and I didn't want to make life harder for my mother by bitching about it. The familiar, all too-sweet smell helped to calm me down some.

_Relax,_ I told myself. _No one can hurt you here._

After lingering in the huge Jacuzzi tub for as long as I could, I reluctantly got up, wiping myself down and putting on my nightgown. It was a long, old-fashioned chemise, with a lucid red ribbon lacing from waist to bosom. It made me feel like a princess.

I cleaned my teeth and washed my face, grabbing my silver brush from the bathroom counter and heading to my room to brush it. Long, and hanging down to my thighs, my hair, though beautiful, was a huge pain the ass to care for. It took me at least ten minutes to struggle with the knots.

When I reached my room, everything was coloured in ghostly shades of grey and white, everything leached and lacking colour by the light of the moon.

I felt his stare before I saw him. He was sitting on the window seat, his beloved toy clutched in his arms, hungrily watching my every move.

I turned.

_Ha-ha, Antoinette. You were saying?_


	5. He Did It!

My first thought was to scream for help. But instinct told me to keep my mouth shut, and wait for him to approach me. So I did. I carefully closed the door behind me, locked it, and settled myself down on the cold marble floor as best as I could, waiting for him to acknowledge me.

He did, turning slightly curious eyes onto me.

"Teddy, this girl really is special."

His voice was soft as he turned his toy over in his hands.

I hesitated, choosing my next words carefully.

"Um… I'm sorry, but what do you mean?"

He smiled angelically.

"Your blood smells delicious. Like that freesia and chocolate ice cream Teddy and I ate yesterday."

He licked his lips, and I shivered in the heated room. The floor was cold, but I didn't dare get up. Being cold was better than being dead any day. I didn't see him approach, but suddenly he was just… There. The look in his eyes was even scarier up close. It was like a starving man seeing a five-course meal for the first time in his life. Knowing that _I_ was the meal didn't make me feel much better either.

I held absolutely still as he pressed his nose to the curve of my neck. I could feel his breath tickle my skin.

_If I can't see how he's going to die… Does that mean he's already dead?_

It didn't seem possible. I didn't even want to consider the possibility. But I'd always, _always _been able to see how someone was going to die. And unless my powers were getting some sort of super freaky upgrade that I didn't know of (I prayed that this wasn't the case – I already had enough to deal with), he was definitely dead. As a doornail. That explained the chalky skin.

I ran over names of various undead in my head.

_Zombie, vampire… Wait._

My eyes widened.

_Vampire? Seriously? A bloodsucker? This is just peachy. Why a vampire of all things?_

_That fits_, a voice in my head chimed in. _That would explain why he's been looking at you like you're something to eat. And the blood comment too._

Knowing that I was no more than a meal for him didn't exactly thrill me to bits.

"Not going to bite me yet?" I whispered.

He smiled against my skin. "Teddy, I told you so. She's definitely special."

_Special my ass._

I glanced warily at the soft toy he'd left on the window seat. It looked almost sinister in the moonlight. Its one black boot button eyes stared at me, shining, drawing me in…

The same red haired boy, sinking his fangs into the neck of a voluptuous, purple haired woman, seemingly unconcerned as she twisted and writhed. She was screaming shrilly, shrieking out names. Kanato, Laito… He ignored her, and didn't pull away until her struggles had ceased. She was dead, completely sucked dry. Then he looked up, licking his lips to catch any of the crimson liquid that lingered there.

The pain washed over me like fog, dragging me deeper and deeper inside. I clutched at my head, which felt like it was going to split open. Through the pain, I could vaguely make out that boy, who looked like that dead woman, saying something. The last thing I remembered was pressure on my neck. Then… Nothing.

I woke up slowly, with the feeling that I'd slept too long and had missed an important event. I was in my own room, lying in bed. Sleep didn't seem to want to let go of me, and my head was fuzzy with dreams. Strange dreams, which seemed more real than the daylight. I dreamed I was being burned alive, fire curling up my limbs. The fire seared my skin, hot and terrible. It was like being dipped in lava. But no matter how loudly I screamed or pleaded, no one came to help me. The dream was so real that I could still smell burning flesh and smoke.

But I was lying under my pink duvet cover. From the look of the light, it was late morning. I could hear Mum downstairs, talking. Yelling, actually. That was odd. She usually leaves for work at eight sharp. I propped myself up on my elbow to listen, but flopped back down onto my pillow, exhausted. I couldn't hear another voice answering her. She was probably on the phone.

Shrugging my shoulders, I headed to the bathroom to freshen up, surprised at how dizzy I felt.

_Woah._

I stared at myself in the mirror. I looked washed out. My eyes were red-rimmed and swollen. My complexion, normally a fair shade of ivory, looked as chalky as _his_ had been. My hair hung over my shoulders like seaweed and a light sheen of sweat glittered on my brow. Do I really look like that?

That was when I saw it. A large, purplish bruise on the curve of my neck. He'd actually bitten me! That little piece of -! What I couldn't figure out was how I hadn't woken up. Weren't bites supposed to be painful? But a tiny part of me was relieved. At least the mystery of why I'd been so weak was solved.

_No way. Is this for real?_

Stifling a groan, I decided to deal with that later, and grabbed my soap. I needed to get cleaned up, before Mum saw.

After a hasty soak in the tub, I changed into a white T-shirt and jeans, knotting a red neck scarf around my neck. It went with my red pumps, and I stumbled back onto my bed. The world was spinning around, and all I wanted to do was curl up into a ball and go to sleep.

"Ann, breakfast!" yelled Mum.

And that plan was out.

I loved sausages, but these didn't taste too good. Maybe they were overcooked. I sliced them and pushed the bits under my knife and fork to make it look as if I've eaten more than I have. Mum hates it when we don't eat our food. But she doesn't seem angry this time. Her brow was creased with worry.

"Have some bread then, Ann, if you don't want the sausages. It's not like you not to be hungry."

But the bread tasted funny too. Much too dry, and chalky – it was as if I was trying to swallow earth.

Mum heaved a sigh, running a hand through her matted curls.

"I was afraid something like this would happen," She admitted, surveying me sadly.

"Something like what, Mum?" I asked, setting the bread down on my plate.

Mum didn't say a word, only set down a tall glass of blood red liquid. I gagged. It reminded me of blood. And I'd had enough of blood for my whole life time.

"No, I'm not going to -"

"You have to!" Mum insisted, holding the glass to my lips. "I know you're thirsty!"

Before I could even finish my protest, Mum pressed the glass to my lips, wetting them with the liquid. I recoiled at the sour taste.

_Cranberry juice?_

The juice touched my lips, then rushed into my mouth. It covered my tongue, and it tasted good. I swallowed deeply, and then I drank more and more, gulping it down. The more I drink, the more I knew how thirsty I was. I felt like a plant that had almost died from lack of water. Mum refilled my glass and I drank again.

"Better?" She asked, after I had gulped down my second glass.

I nodded, wiping my mouth with a napkin. I felt more alive and alert, not as much like a zombie. Maybe the food was kicking in. Or was it the juice? I stared at Mum in wonder.

"How did you know?" I demanded.

"Know what?" She asked, acting innocent.

"Know that cranberry juice would make me feel better?"

She smiled drily.

"Cranberry juice helps you replenish blood cells. And I'm guessing you need as much blood as you can."

I stared at Mum in horror.

_How did you find out?_

**Hey guys. Ah, this chapter was a real pain in the ass to write! Partly because I had no idea what to write, and partly because Kanato is just seriously hard to write for. Why, I have no idea. BUT HE'LL ALWAYS BE MY BABY. A big thank you to all those who reviewed and favourited! Please tell me if I've made Kanato too OOC, and I'll do my best to change it in the next chapter. Until next time~!**


	6. I Can't Deal With This!

"How did you know?" I demanded, staring aghast at Mum.

I wasn't sure what _he_ would do if he found out that Mum knew, but I was sure that even _I_ wouldn't be able to save her.

"I could _smell_ him on you," She replied, wrinkling her nose distastefully. "Metallic, coppery. The smell of blood."

"'_Smell_ him on me'?" I echoed, wondering if this was all just a bad dream.

I sniffed cautiously at my hair, in case it smelled bad, but all that registered in my senses was cupcake, cupcake, and more cupcake. Overkill much?

"It's not like that," Mum said suddenly. "It's difficult to explain," Mum mumbled, shaking her head. "But your Grandmother's calling this evening, and she'll do a better job at it. I've never done this thing before. Never had to."

Realization dawned.

"Was that who you were talking to just now? On the phone?"

She shook her head.

"No way. Not even close. That was my boss, Kai."

I frowned.

"You shouted at your boss?"

"No, I shouted at Ruka, the niece of my boss," She corrected. "Ruka wants us to copy _Insatiable's _plot line: Vampires."

I blanched.

_Again?_

Mum saw my face and quickly changed the subject.

"I was mad. It happens. So, anyway, I was thinking that Lisette would be happier not knowing about this."

"Yeah, can do," I tried to supress a shudder at the thought of my sister getting involved in all this.

She'd probably hate me even more. Being the elder sister of You're-Gonna-Die girl tended to do that to a person and her reputation. But Lisette had had no trouble convincing her friends that we were adopted. It wasn't hard. There was more difference between my flesh and hers than jet and ivory.

Tall and lanky, with sun-kissed skin and a headful of golden princess curls, Lisette was a real-life Princess Aurora. Only without the sugary sweet demeanour and tiara. While I, on the other hand, was pale and skinny, with poker straight snow-white hair. Unlike the rest of my family, I was tiny, standing at a grand height of 140cm. I could have passed for an elf. Or maybe a third-grader with boobs. Whatever the case, it was clear that I looked nothing like the rest of my family, who were all tanned, with hair in various shades of gold. I stuck out like a sore thumb wherever I went.

Maybe that was why Odette and I had clicked. I felt a pang of longing, wishing that I could see my best friend. I was slim and small-chested, while she was, for a lack of a better term, well-endowed, with defined hips and a huge rack to boot. She was more than just pretty. She was beautiful, fair and freckled, with thick auburn hair that she kept tied up in a high ponytail.

We'd been best friends ever since kindergarten, when she noticed me sitting alone in class while the other kids had all rushed out to play. She hadn't known about my powers yet. She only knew that I was lonely. So she walked away from the monkey bars and sunshine, and headed back inside. By the time the recess bell had rung, we were inseparable. She'd always had my back, defending me from all the harsh words and comments aimed at me.

I cleared my plate away and pushed back my chair.

"May I please be excused? I have homework."

Okay, I lied. I didn't actually _have_ any work, considering that it was only my first day. (And I suspected that being the daughter of a famous celebrity helped too.) But I needed time to think, and staying in the same room as the very woman who had known vampires existed all along, would not help much.

Mum nodded distractedly, probably thinking about what to write next for the plot-line of _My Lady_, the show that she was currently working on.

I headed up to my room and dialled Odette's number. It was 3am, Paris time, and she'd probably still be up. Odette never slept later than 4am.

She answered on the first ring.

"Hello?"

"OD!" I cried out, relieved beyond words to hear her familiar voice again.

"What's up?" She asked easily. I could hear a hairdryer buzzing in the background.

"Did you just finish showering?" I asked, trying to stall for time, while I deliberated on what to say.

"Hey, it's my life!" She defended herself, but I knew that she wasn't really mad. "You'd better have a good reason to be calling so late at night! I could have been out for all you knew!"

"… _You_ have a social life?"

"Ouch. That was blunt. No, I don't. But you didn't have to rub it in!"

"My point exactly." I pushed back the curtains so that I could look out over the grey valley of skyscrapers that made up Tokyo. I knew that somewhere out there, Margarita was finding out that her dreams of a new life in Japan weren't exactly turning out the way she'd expected them to. I wondered how long it'd be before she called. Or if she'd ever call.

"Freaky psychic powers causing you trouble?"

"Yeah. Maybe. Kind of. I met a girl on the subway today I think is going to end up sold into white slavery and then killed."

"Sweet," Odette said sarcastically.

"Tell me about it," I replied. "And… Um, well…"

"Is there a guy?" Odette asked knowingly.

"No! What the hell, OD?!"

"Chill! I was just saying! Gawd, what is up with you? I don't think I've heard you sound so… Well, frazzled before. It's not just about that girl on the train, right?"

"Mum's been really stressed about what she's going to write for _My Lady_," I decided at last, lying through the skin of my teeth. "She's worrying about what's going to happen next to Countess Suzuhara Kimiko."

"Oh. Of course. So what _is_ going to happen to Countess Suzuhara Kimiko?"

I sighed. "One guess. Mum got the news today."

"What was it?"

"_Insatiable_ started this vampire story arc thingy, and they killed _My Lady_ in the ratings, so…"

Odette let out a little burble of laughter. "Oh, yeah. Everyone at school's obsessed with Asian dramas right now, and all the girls just love _Insatiable_, and that Yukari Shi person. Guys have been asking my folks to do their hair like his for weeks. Like it's an actual _style_ and not something accomplished with a razor blade and some mousse. People are pyscho for that guy."

"Yeah, and I don't get it. The guy looks like a toothpick. With hair."

Odette bubbled with more laughter. I loved the sound of her laughter. It cheered me up and reminded me of the old days, before I'd come to Tokyo.

Still, I felt obligated to say, "It's not funny. You know how I feel about vampires."

"Yeah," Odette yawned, sounding a little bored. "What is it you're always saying again? In the cult of monster misogyny, vampires are king?"

"Well," I said, "They do always seem to choose to prey on pretty female victims. And yet, for some reason, women find this sexy."

I refrained from saying that _he'd_ bitten me last night, not for my looks (well, duh), but for my blood, which apparently smelled like freesia and chocolate ice cream. Yuck. Who ate that stuff, anyway?

"I don't. I want to be killed by Frankenstein. I like 'em big. And stupid."

"A match made in heaven, indeed," I went on dryly. "Even though these guys admit over and over to wanting to kill us, the idea that they're nobly restraining themselves from doing so is supposed to be attractive? Excuse me, but how is knowing that a guy wants to kill you hot?"

He_ won't think twice about killing me!_

"The fact that he wants to but doesn't makes some girls feel special," Odette said simply. "Plus, all vampires are rich. I could deal with having some rich guy who wants to kill me – but is nobly restraining himself – being super into me right now. Oliver doesn't have a job, but he won't even help out with the chores at home. And Allegra is pregnant, so I have to do all of that."

I winced, not wanting to tell her how her problems would look like small potatoes if she were in my shoes.

"Well… It is still kind of early…"

"Oh, don't you agree with my lazy brother too! Allegra's been harping on and on about when he's going to get started on their baby's room," Odette said. "Or the baby's alcove, I guess I should call it, since it's so small. It's practically a closet, and I don't mean the walk in kind! Still, he has to put a door on it, and the dry wall, and paint it, and everything. You know what Oliver said? 'It's still too early and that there's plenty of time'," Odette did a very poor impression of her older brother's voice. "Charles is coming in two months! TWO MONTHS! Sometimes I don't know if we're going to make it. I really don't."

"Yes, you will," I said soothingly. "We'll get through all of this. Really, we will."

I didn't believe a word of my BS, of course. It had been months since Oliver had been laid off from the investment company where he'd worked as a systems analyst, and he was no closer to finding a job than he'd been the day of his firing. The few jobs that were out there in their fields had hundreds, maybe thousands, of equally qualified applicants vying for them.

"Is that a prediction?" Odette demanded, sounding worn out.

"It is," I said firmly.

"I'm holding you to that," Odette said. "Well, good luck with your new school. The Vampire thing'll get better soon. Probably. The blood sucker hype will die out eventually. Snag me a hot Asian boy while you're at it." She hung up.

I threw my phone onto my bed, chewing my lower lip. I hated lying to Odette.

Because things _weren't_ going to be fine.

Something was wrong. Odette kept telling me that Allegra's due date was two months away.

And that was what her doctor had said.

But the doctor was wrong. Every time Odette said it – "Charles is coming in two months" – I felt an uncomfortable twinge.

The baby – I was positive – was coming _next_ month. Possibly even sooner than that.

And Charles! Allegra and Oliver wanted to name their child _Charles Fabre_!

That kid was going to be a pretty funny-looking Charles, considering that it was a girl and not a boy.

But how do you tell an expectant mother that everything the doctor was saying was wrong… When it was all just based on a _feeling_? Especially when all of your previous predictions had been about death, not a new life?

Easy. You didn't tell her at all. You kept your mouth zipped up tight.

I groaned, wallowing in a pool of misery. The phone call to my friend hadn't turned out the way I'd wanted it to, though it had been comforting to hear her voice.

It looked like I would have to survive this one alone.


	7. Bonded With A Sadist

I wrapped myself up in my duvet and curled up on my bed, my head reeling with unanswered questions.

_Who am I? What am I? What's his name? Do I want to know the name of the person who could kill me? Will he turn up now? What about my family? Can we run away?_

My phone shrilled: once, twice. I grabbed it.

"Hello?"

"Annie?"

"Grandmother," I exhaled, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Dear, it's been a while. Your mother's told me everything."

It felt unbelievably good to hear her voice again; my Grandmother was the only one who'd believed me when I'd first discovered my powers. The cloud of despair that clung to me lightened and drifted back.

"Mm… This _is_ a problem. But all problems have solutions. So… Who's the lucky vampire?" Her tone was light and casual; she was trying not to freak me out.

"I don't know," I mumbled, toying with the scarf around my neck. "He never said."

"Well, then why don't you try describing him? I might have heard of him."

"Um… Well… He was short. With purple hair and eyes. Dark shadows under his eyes. Had a teddy bear in his arms. Had five other brothers."

"Oh. _Oh._" Grandmother practically squeaked out.

"Do you know him?" I asked curiously, undoing the scarf and letting it fall onto my lap.

"That is Sakamaki Kanato. He's… Very… Um… UNIQUE."

"Unique?" I poked at the mark on my neck. It had faded away, and was now a light shade of baby pink.

"And by unique, I mean sadistic."

If I'd been drinking water, liquid would have shot out of my nose. As it was, I glared at the other end of the phone, despite knowing that Grandmother couldn't see me.

"And how is this supposed to make me feel any better?" I demanded, wanting to wring her neck.

"He's also very possessive. So he'll do anything to protect you!"

"Yeah, 'cos he only sees me as a **MEAL**," I tossed out sarcastically.

"That's true as well, but it _**IS**_ your fault for having appealed to him so much."

"My fault?! How is it _my_ fault?"

"You smelled good." She replied simply. "And I guess he liked you."

"And what does this have to do with my powers of precognition?" I grumbled, flopping back down onto my bed and thumping my pillow grouchily.

"I'm coming to that now. Dear, has no one told you about our family?"

"Um… No?"

"Well, dear, we were Vampire Hunters," Her statement was so matter-of-fact, we could have been discussing my grades for all I knew.

"Excuse me?" I spluttered. Clearly this was all a bad dream and I'd fallen asleep in the bathtub.

"That's why you have powers. It's a little skill that we picked up from our ancestors. Your mother, you and I, all have powers. I can predict the future. Your mother has a nose like a bloodhounds'. She can sniff out a vamp a mile away. And _you_ can tell how someone's going to die. All these help us to find blood suckers. You probably couldn't tell how your Kanato was going to die, right? That's one of the little things."

"He's not mine."

"And I'm Oprah." I could picture Grandmother giving me her best stern face. "Now, about our family. We were an ancient clan of vampire hunters, who worked with the church to get rid of the vamps, so to speak."

"So… What happened to us?"

Grandmother hesitated. "A mistake. One of the hunters… Well… She fell in love with one of them, a really important vampire, but she knew it wouldn't work out. So she wanted to make up for what her ancestors had done. A sacrifice had to be given, something to bridge the gap of generations of hatred."

_No. Way._

"Me?"

"Yes. You dear." Grandmother sounded tired, weary.

"I never asked for this! All I wanted was to be normal! Not some vampire's meal!" Hysteria rang out in my voice. "Can't you do something? Kill him? Stuff garlic in his mouth?! Behead him?!"

"Do you want to die? You have to understand that none of us had a choice in this! Your mother was very much against it, but it had to be done! We would have wiped each other out!"

"So I'm his… His… Blood whore, or something?" I demanded, crushing the Hermes scarf.

"No, no, no. Not a blood whore. Did you make that word up, by the way? No. You two are bonded." Grandmother sounded _happy._

"Bonded." I deadpanned, rubbing my temples.

"Yup! Simply put, you are his. His property, that is."

"Explain." I said, the anger draining out of me just as suddenly as it had come.

"It's in all the old stories. All the human wives of vampires were bonded to them. Meaning, yes, you are his food source, but he can't drink from anyone else. He has to drink from you alone. And in exchange, you live for as long as he does. Your lives are intertwined, like that red string of fate thingamajig. Cut one end of the string, and you both die. So he'll have to protect you if he doesn't want to kick the bucket."

"Wasn't he dead?"

"He is. But he can die for good this time if you do. And did I mention that you can kill a vampire by either exposing him to sunlight, beheading him, or setting him on fire?"

"No, you did not. What's the point, anyway? I can't murder him."

"No. You can't. But other vampires might try to come after you. You'll need to know this."

_Lovely. Yet another wrinkle to worry about._

"Of course, it might be safer for you to move in with him –"

"**No**. Forget it."

"– But I figured you'd refuse, so just keep your eyes open. Don't let your guard down. And remember to keep me updated."

"Hey… Grandmother. Does Kanato know about…"I trailed off, not knowing what to call all of this.

"I'm sure he does. It would be weird if he didn't." There was a tense edge to her voice.

"Okay then. If that's all… I should get going…"

"Tell your mother it's time. And that's an order."

"Um. Okay." That was a weird message, but this was Grandmother's show, not mine.

"One more thing: Watch out for Yui Komori. That girl's special."

"Wait! How did you know her…? Hello?" I frowned at my phone, which only registered a faint beeping. She'd hung up. "Perfect," I mumbled, chucking my phone onto my duvet.

The door creaked open, and I wasn't at all surprised to see my mother. Maybe she'd been listening in on us. Who knew?

"I have something for you."

I braced myself. It didn't sound like a very fun gift. My face must have shown my reluctance.

"My journal. Actually, it's _our _journal. Over the centuries, vampire hunters from out family have added to, rewritten, and guarded the wisdom we've gained. It won't bite, I promise. I've kept notes over for years, hoping this day would never come. There isn't enough time to tell you all of this on your own, so you'll need this." She handed me a leather-bound tome with gold edging and a ribbon tie. It was worn and mangled, the oil from many fingers leaving streaks on the pages, marks where the ink had run, and smudges on the cover.

"Thanks." The darn thing was so heavy I had to use both hands to hold it.

"I haven't read it in while. There might be a way to… Um, you know, kill your blood sucker without killing yourself that I don't remember. I will think on it – but you should be prepared. It's still early – like early afternoon, so try to nap if you can before school."

She left.

I gave up on sleep. I sat on the window seat and tugged the enormous volume onto my lap, flipping through the pages.

_March 23, 1921_

_Sie sind das Essen und wir sind die Jäger! "They are the prey and we are the hunters!" A very apt statement, considering that I've just come back from my first vampire hunt. He was a boy, no older than twelve, with chocolate brown hair and eyes the colour of moonlight… And I, Allegra Leblanc, killed him. I didn't want to, but it had to be done. Someone had to get their hands stained with blood._

_April 10, 1955_

_My little sister. Claudine. They took her. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and the judgement of death for evil. But really. Are we evil? Am I evil? All we are doing is protecting the humans. We did no wrong. The vampires were the ones who picked a fight with us. They deserved it. But… But… Claudine was only 5. She had no part in this. And yet those monsters took her. I swear, on my name as a Leblanc, I will kill him._

_November 24, 1933_

_There is one following me. I am afraid. With only one silver stake left, it may not be long before I, too, perish like Anthony did. But I will stand strong. I will fight till my last breath. I will not succumb. "It was a pointless death." I won't let anyone say that. Not until we're down to the last man. The enemy is cruel, but we'll beat them. _

I put the book down, my stomach churning. If both my Mother and my Grandmother felt that way, then how was there any hope for me?

"Not until we're down to the last man." That sounded like a very bad prediction indeed, and I prayed that it wouldn't come true…

**Anyone caught the SnK and Code:Breaker references? A big shout-out to: livelovehatedie, DarkestAz, himasama, hiyomi, Lumi yoshinigama, Caigdimo and honeywinterbliss113. You guys rock! Thanks to all the guests who reviewed as well! Please stay tuned for the next chapter! Oh. And the 'Bonded' stuff is something I made up. It's not in the game. I think. I've never played it before. w**


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